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"OVER THERE 



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"OVER THERE" 

POEMS OF APPRECIATION, CON- 
SOLATION AND INDIGNATION 



HARVEY M- WATTS, A.M., Litt.D. 

Author of "The Wife of Potiphar, with Other Poems," "The 
Faith of Princes." "Lux Erat," "Pennsylvania," Etc. 




PHILADELPHIA 

THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY 

1917 



•f^^t?^ 



Reprinted from the public prints, 
Vigilantes files, etc., in which they 
appeared as the occasions giving 
rise to them called for. 



Copyright, 1917, by 
Harvey M. Watts 




JAN 25 1918 
©CI,A48159n 



CONTENTS 



CONTENTS 

PAGB 

"Over There!" 7 

Going Away 

. As to Those Who Go! 11 

• Packing Up 13 

- At the Station 14 

' Reveille 15 

Taps 16 

Somewhere in France 17 

To the Aviators 18 

Festival Days 

Memorial Day, 1917 23 

4 At Independence Hall 24 

, The Celebration, July FouHh, 1917 25 

In the Kaiser's Honor 

• In the Kaiser's Honor! 29 

The Were-Wolf 30 

The Exemplar 31 

' The Bayonet Practice at Plattsburg 32 

His Victims 

' Nurse Cavell — Martyr! 35 

The Lusitanians 36 

The Red Cross! 37 



[S] 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

In Belgium! 38 

To France 40 

To Venice! 41 

^ To Germany 42 

To Those at Rest 

The Roll of Honor! 45 

In Memoriam 46 

' " Ordinary Seamen " 47 

"Going West" 48 



[6] 



OVER THERE! 



f" 



"OVER THERE!" 

SOME day we'll join them over there and know 
The haunting secret that lights up their face, 
Giving their humblest act a touch of grace 
As if all saw the vision in the glow 
Of Heaven ajar, as, lo, they cry "We go 
Comrades in arms of those who set the pace. 
Ready to fall if they but win the race 
Ere tyranny shall strike the fateful blow." — 
Some day ! Ah, yes, the long way over there 
We too shall tread since they have gladly gone 
As pioneers and paid the final toll! 
So fear we not, as if in dull despair. 
To face with them the bright unending dawn. 
Lest saving life we lose all else, the soul ! 



I7j 



GOING AWAY 



AS TO THOSE WHO GO 



AS TO THOSE WHO GO! 

THEY say that those who go away 
Are nevermore the same; 
Something is added that upHfts 
Above your praise or blame. 

Gayly they say farewells and go, 

Gayly perform their tasks; 
That duty square the old account 

With honor is all they ask. 

The very insolence of Youth 

Is in their every gait; 
Joyous they ask for service, give 

Full hostages to Fate. 

In the dark scheme of muddled things 
They cast their shining spear. 

Themselves the very sacrifice 
Yet free from coward fear. 

And, as in all the ages past. 
They crowd in quickened years 

The essence of heroic deeds 
Nor ask your meed of tears. 



[11 



AS TO THOSE WHO GO! 



But those who wait the long return 

Know that for e'er and all 
The "first fine rapture's" gone from life 

Gone, gone, beyond recall. 

They say that those who go away 

Are nevermore the same; 
Haloed in life, or death, they stand 

Above all praise or blame. 



12] 



PACKING UP 



PACKING UP 

THESE are his things, his clothes, his kit, his 
shoes, 
In haste selected at the sudden call 
When he himself gave up his chance, his all. 
That greater treasure he might never lose; 
Honor and faith in country — What ! refuse 
To quit the discipUne of storied hall? 
To yield up cloying pleasures sure to pall? 
No, no; this sacrifice he could but choose! 
O patriot lad, so keen to play your part 
In these unstained habiliments of war. 
We, who must wait, salute you through our 
tears. 
Knowing such free devotion, head and heart. 
To world in travail can alone restore 
Hope for the present and the future years! 



[13] 



AT THE STATION 



AT THE STATION 

WE watch him go till he is out of sight, 
Yet catch the last gay wave of friendly 
hand 
Above the crowd; and, while the blare of band 
Is in our ears, we turn; the garish light, 
The station noise, are lost — just as one might 
Of sudden find things blank : And so we stand 
Irresolute, as he, at shrill command 
Of bugle, goes into the deepening night! 
Yet we who long have waited, labored, know 
The bright escutcheon of his soul is clear. 
Ready in body, duty but the guide! 
So wherefore shrink as if to ward the blow? 
Service is asked of all, out on chill fear. 
Nor hamper him exalted in his pride! 



14 



REVEILLE 



REVEILLfi 

THE reveill6 across the sun-touched field 
Gives "taps" to song of cheerful birdling 
choir 
Vocal since dawn; as smoke of kindled fire 
Sifts lazily, to early duties steeled 
The camp wakes up, its bustling streets revealed 
Seething with eager youth, freed from desire 
Of old-time ease, nor fearing lest they tire 
Of daily grind they full obedience yield. 
And, lo, the steady tread of many feet. 
Striking the ground in ringing unison, 
The stalwart poise in serried discipline. 
Tell of a land thrilled to remotest mete. 
Facing the mighty task still to be done; 
The nation to a man in step and line! 



[15] 



TAPS 



TAPS 



THE stars are near, the tardy moon a friend 
Whose mystic shadows trail the dim parade. 
The night lights gleam, the songs rise from 
the glade 
And jest and jollity and play attend. 
While touch of music when strong voices blend 
Gives benediction, as, drawn out, delayed. 
The slow arpeggios, sadly, softly played, 
Bring work and duties to their happy end. 
Oh, that to all might come this bid to rest! 
Rest after toil is o'er, the work achieved; 
Symbol of last appeal, heartfelt and deep, 
To those who, open-eyed, give of their best 
And freely, too — calm, brave and undeceived — 
Nor fear the silence, nor life's long, long sleep ! 



[16] 



SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 



S' 



SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 

''0<^MEWHERE in France" they'll bivouac 
'neath the sky, 
As poplared roads lead straightway to the 
front 
Where the scarred towns have borne the frightful 
brunt 
Of gun and mine; and all things open lie, 
A cratered desert, grim, where none may ply 

The trades of Peace; but, used to death, full blunt, 
From trench to trench the hidden foe must hunt, 
Giving no quarter as they sullen fly ! 
"Somewhere in France" — ^This is the only hope 
To save from those who batten on the slain. 
To meet the menace of this armored might — 
Where Joan was victor they must more than cope. 
Or else the rumbling tocsin sounds in vain, 
And all that man achieved sinks into night! 



17 



TO THE AVIATORS 



TO THE AVIATORS 

ICTORY o'er all the ways of air 

And menace of the trackless main, 
Is to the men who do and dare 
In driven plane! 



V 



Above the rugged rind of earth. 
Above the toiling mists of cloudy 

With triple courage for their girth. 
They move, uncowed! 

For, lo, as graceful birds they soar. 
Cutting the blue on easy wing; 

Audacious, as the motors roar, 
They have their fling! 

Whatever the rudder's incidence. 

With head reversed to ground or sky. 

Battling with hostile elements, 
Gayly they fly! 

And where the rule of fiery Mars 
Calls to a service peril-fraught. 

As Mercuries, proud of their scars. 
They rival thought! 



[is; 



TO THE AVIATORS 



And, battling in the dizzy height. 
They strike to save a world in fee 

Of "Frightfulness," hate black as night. 
And cruelty! 

And though Death lurks in every thrill, 
In every heart-beat of the plane; 

All undeterred they pit their skill. 
And not in vain! 

This is the way of pioneers, 

The way of men who do and dare. 

Who, rising through the coward fears. 
Conquer the air! 



19] 



FESTIVAL DAYS 



MEMORIAL DAY 



MEMORIAL DAY— 1917 

A LL those about to serve anew salute, 
r'\ Near the green mounds of those who won a 
name, 

With deeper ardor, prouder of the fame 
That tells of old-time valor, not of brute. 
Nor stirred by hope of self, whose deeds confute 

The coarse abuse of ravening Huns, who claim 

In fee of blood and ruin tribute; blame 
All people as they seize the world for loot. 
Not such the memories of this holy day, 

Not such the wish of those who bravely planned 

For millions freed, a country unified; 
So we, not moved by lust to idly slay, 

Loosing the sword that wrong fore'er be 
banned. 

Laurel again these pioneers who died ! 



[2s: 



AT INDEPENDENCE HALL 



AT INDEPENDENCE HALL 
THE RALLY TO THE FLAG- 
MARCH 31, 1917 

NOT for brute conquests meet these hosts 
today, 
Nor that gross Might upon the weak should 
tread, 
Gloatmg with pride o'er trenches heaped with dead. 
Dire toll of those who, ruthless, seek their way. 
Deaf to all tears and voice of those who pray. 
For simple chance to hve, the boon of bread. 
Crushed 'neath the wrack of war, blood drenched 

with dread. 
Shrinking from horrors that no hand may stay — 
No, no; these come, in brave enmillioned state. 
To offer service at this olden shrine. 
Eager to hear Columbia's clarion call 
'Gainst Craft enthroned; to Freedom consecrate, 
As, floating to the wind, a Heaven-sent sign. 
Unfurled for Right, the Flag is over all ! 



24] 



THE CELEBRATION 



THE CELEBRATION— JULY FOURTH. 
1917 

ONCE more the bells give tongue to liberty. 
Proclaim once more the equal rights of man, 
The fall of tyrants, time's fulfilled plan. 
As patriots in new brotherhood would free 
All nations from the fanged autocracy. 
Whose minions from the blood-stained barriers scan 
Chimaera-hke the lands still 'neath their ban. 
In sodden slavery by fell decree! 
Yea, this fair day must sound the deeper note. 
Intone new antiphon of world in arms. 
With nobler purpose every one imbue; 
And, as o'er land and sea the colors float 
And yeomen press to war despite alarms, 
O let the greater future rise in view! 



25 



IN THE KAISER'S HONOR 



IN THE kaiser's HONOR ! 



m THE KAISER'S HONOR! 

" Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui 
lumen ademptum." 

Virgil, Aeneid, Book HI 

PARAPHRASE 

A MONSTER bloated with the pride of race. 
From whom the light has lo, been ta'en away, 
Bereft of vision; as to heart, no trace; 
In form, a man; in acts, a beast of prey! 



[291 



THE WERE-WOLF 



THE WERE-WOLF 

IF, lo, the fang that drips could voice its glee. 
The slunk hyena cry its frightfulness. 
The jackal speak, with glutted tongue confess 
Its midnight deed; none, none could be more free 
Than this stark Hun whose cloak of majesty 
Is but th' imperial shroud of those who, less 
Than ravening beasts, gloat as cadavers press; 
Praise God that blood may redden all the sea! 
At large ! Unmasked ! Let every patriot rise, 
Forswear the sloth, indiflFerence of the past; 
Strengthen the bulwarks and with vision scan 
The far horizon where the menace lies; 
Strike to secure — ere falls the baleful blast — 
Honor and olden faith 'tween man and man ! 



[30] 



THE EXEMPLAR 



THE EXEMPLAR 

{The Minister of Public Instruction has suggested 
that the Kaiser he held up as an exemplar to all the 
school children in the empire. — Cable dispatch.) 

BEFORE these innocents they would o'er- 
praise 
This madman who has sacrificed to Thor 
His hecatombs to glut his thirst for war; 
Thinking in red, who finds his "day of days" 
When the swift bomb from aircraft sudden slays 
The babes at matins; eager counts the score. 
Gloats o'er the slain, unsated asks for more 
As the whole world looks on in stark amaze. 
Exemplar? Then revile the good and great. 
Exalt the monsters, give them sure requite, 
Mock Christ again, bow to the Tetrarch's nod. 
Praise ye the vile forever execrate, 
In sheerest paradox let black be white, 
Nero a saint, Caligula a god ! 



31 



THE BAYONET PRACTICE AT PLATTSBURG 



THE BAYONET PRACTICE AT 
PLATTSBURG 

THESE wisps of rags, these fascines, men of 
straw. 
These shapeless things on which they vent 
their will. 
Gaining perfection in the hideous drill. 
Stand for the enemy that knows no law. 
Whose faith enfesters with the poisoned flaw, 
Enshambling nations that he may fulfill 
His own red boast of Cesar's power to kill 
In savagery, with life cut to the raw. — 
So shrink not from the thrust, there's no remorse 
For those who strike the were-wolf in its lair. 
Or crush th' envenomed brood of cruelty. 
But oh, that he, the marplot, in his corse 
Should expiate these sodden crimes laid bare; 
A black oblation for a world set free! 



[32] 



HIS VICTIMS 



NURSE CA VELL MARTYR ! 



NURSE CAVELL— MARTYR! 

''Have Pity on i7er."— Brand Whitlock. 

BOUND to the service of her kind in need. 
Her ministries knew naught of friend or foe; 
Throughout the wards soft blessings come and 

go 
Where'er her footsteps, quick with mercy, leaa. 
Simple her faith and simple, too, her creed : 
"Bind up the wounded and My hungry feed." 
This is her record; 'gainst which high and low 
In vain, with brute aspersions, aim their blow, 
Seeking excuses for insensate deed! 

Aye ! ask for pity ! though the minions laugh 
And in derision flout the fond appeals. 
Glutting their hate on corse so foully slain ! 
Though all the world this bitter cup must quaff. 
Fearless tell all and place — as truth reveals — 
Upon th' imperial brow the brand of Cain ! 



35 



THE LUSITANIANS 



THE LUSITANIANS 

WHO loosed this terror of the hidden deep, 
Dastards that strike where none have 
raised a hand? 
Whose was the word that gave the foul command, 
The heart the heart that knows no pity, but would 

sweep 
All, all before as refuse, and would steep 
All souls in hatred through the servile land? 
Enthroning craft, all things of honor banned. 
Whose is the sowing where but Death may reap? 

Monster! who wars on helpless innocence. 
Blind and insensate is thy lust for power, 
Already have the Fates set out thy name! 
Add to thy laurels, shrink from no offense. 
Let all the flags proclaim thy hectic hour; 
Aye, share with Herod his appointed shame! 



36 



THE RED cross! 



THE RED CROSS! 

(The attacks of the Germans on the ambulance 
headquarters, hospital ships and base hospitals have 
constituted one of the ghastly features of the war in 
Europe.) 

UNDER the cross of red, love's ambuscade 
Of mercy, there they seek their owii, nor ask 
For ease of labor; e'er the bitter task 
Compels and holds, free from the gay parade, 
As all that skill compassioned has of aid 
Is at their call, sure help and healing flask. 
Safe once as neophytes enchurched at Pasque 
And innocent as they, they plied their trade — 
Till lo! the Hun, of carrion birth, all ghoul. 
Vulture in kind and harpy in his play. 
The kindly skies with blackest deeds would fret; 
Like dour ApoUyon, breaking Heaven's rule 
With act unlawful — But he will repay, 
For Christ recrucified will triumph yet! 



37 



IN Belgium! 



IN BELGIUM! 

(The Germans are letting the Belgian exiles, weak- 
ened by their privation in the industrial camps, go home 
to die. — News dispatch.) 

WHAT is this wail of the Flemish leas. 
Sounding across the unkindly seas. 
Heard, though the carillons are mute? 
What is this moan, as of helpless brute 
Westward turning, with straining eye? 
"Home to die! Home to die!!" 

Who are these wastrels who tread the snows. 
Shivering, unclad, as the raw wind blows, 
Shrinking before the conqueror's lust, 
Man and maiden fearing the thrust 
Of bayonet, as they turn to fly? 
"Home to die! Home to die!!" 

The famished who seek what others drop. 
Mere husks from trough? Whose is the sop 
That satisfies not while the slave-gang drives? 
Whose is the mercy that speaks in gyves 
To those who raise the hopeless cry? 
"Home to die ! Home to die ! ! " 



38 



IN Belgium! 



Yea, they come home from the prison pen! 
Yea, they come home, mere wraiths of men! 
Death at their heels, as the world may see, 
But deathless their honor with conscience free. 
Martyred! as others crucify 
With " Home to die ! Home to die ! ! " 



39] 



TO FRANCE 



TO FRANCE 

Atter Three Years of War 

RHEIMS speaks in trumpet tones though its 
pale fane 
'' Is mute and dark; Verdun in ruins is heard 
Above all roar of guns: the fearless bird, 
'Mid shrapnel singing its sweet matin strain. 
Is not more bUthe than they with this refrain. 
This purposed heart-beat of a winged word, 
"They shall not pass," as heroes, uncrushed, gird 
Themselves anew, the world's great end to gain. 
O France — tho' thy fair bounds are coarsely seamed 
With furrowed death where wild beasts still prevail. 
We, long thy debtors, hasten to thine aid 
Lest all the things of light and love should fail — 
Live on! And freed from Hunnish dragonnade 
Shed greater glory o'er mankind redeemed ! 



[401 



TO Venice! 

TO VENICE! 

Under Aerial Bombardment 

WHAT are these monstrous shapes that foul 
the blue? 
Where day enchants with sweUing dome 
and tower. 
And night, moon-quickened, swoons with beauty's 

dower. 
The world in thrall! What is this fulmined dew 
That falls as hidden meteor hurtling through 
Rebellious air? as women, helpless cower 
Clasping their babes in fear of Hell's last hour, 
Evoked of Satan and his drunken crew! 

Venice, live on! Though they are less than kine 
Who menace, still thy message unobscured 
Glows like a text of gold ! Without avail 
The ruin! Lo, 'tis palimpsest divine; 
Each stone a testament of things endured 
That truth in loveliness may never fail! 



41 



TO GERMANY 



TO GERMANY 

'* ■ ^IS not alone the sober reign of law 

I That sinks to silence, silence of the tombs. 
As fierce Bellona's murky touch illumes 
The nations, and the sable curtains drawn 
O'er hideous scenes; humanity in raw 
Mad for the tribute in the gathering glooms 
At Moloch's shrine, whose fiery breath consumes 
All things loved best, in huge insatiate maw! 

Why shriek ye, then, on street, the furious will 
Of despot kings? why boast of battled might, 
Greeting War's chariot, with exultant breath? 
Through flames attend, as ministers of ill, 
'Tis not the Car of Progress, Car of Light, 
O, blind! but lo, the Juggernaut of Death! 



[42] 



TO THOSE AT REST 



THE ROLL OF HONOR 



THE ROLL OF HONOR! 

(All the English, French, and Italian Periodicals 
print regularly page groups of photographs of those 
lost in action, under the simple tribute of the caption 
printed above.) 

COULD these but speak would they have aught 
to say 
But that they gladly heard the call, and 
went — 
Nor willed to linger till old age were spent. 
When for their country came th' unwelcome day, 
Fate's fierce assortal? No; far more than clay. 
Knowing full well what the shrill summons meant. 
They faced the foe, heart-whole, with head unbent, 
And took the step that led but one dark way! 
THE ROLL OF HONOR! Yea, we too now share 
Its roster; see the same untroubled glance 
Of our own dead, the names set out, no more — 
Yet what a blazonry beyond compare! 
For you, for me, for all, they dared, in France, 
That, lo, new dawns shall break unfouled by war! 



45 



IN MEMORIAM 



IN MEMORIAM 

To OF THE Ambulance Service on the 

French Front 

THESE are his things, — not as he went away, 
Jaunty and trim for service but full worn; 
Dirt of the road and car and roughly torn. 
Yet telling of him, as such remnants may. 
In cut of cloth, the shoulder slope, the play 
Of greaves dark-stained, the cloak so limp, forlorn, 
Tho' once so fresh, and oh, so gaily borne 
By him who knows at last nor night, nor day, — 
Aye, pack them up! Who would, who could 

destroy? 
Lay them in cedar fragrant as his life; 
At rest, above all time's requite and pain. 
Noble in heart and soul without alloy. 
His is the Kingdom, free from earthly strife. 
Of those who fought and fell but not in vain. 



46 



ORDINARY SEAMEN 



THE DEAD 



"Ordinary Seamen." 

SO ran their service, no offense in name; 
And lo, they lead who were the first to fall. 
Who heard, without dispute, their country's 
call 
And blithely followed when the summons came, 
Untroubled over cause or counter claim. 
Knowing one flag unfurled and over all; 
Nor fearsome lest its folds should prove a pall. 
They, recking little, found an instant fame — 
O ! when the high and low in greed of pelf 
Invite envenomed conflict, class arrayed 
'Gainst class, and loudly prate with idle breath 
Of liberty, and yet know nought but self. 
These are the true exemplars, who obeyed; 
In simple line of duty met their death! 



47 



GOING WEST 



"GOING WEST."* 
HERE clouds in breaking show a crystal 



W 



All haline with the lights of dying day. 
And distance, as the last of sunbeams play. 
Drops into depths of green eternity, 
And through the " Ivory Gates " of dreams to be 
The purple barks of Charon 'mid the spray 
Of golden wavelets drift, — They take their way 
'Mid earthly glories yielding life's rich fee. 
Dust to the dust and spirit to its kind. 
Part of the universal swirl that turns 
In rythmic motion ever 'round the pole, 
They are resolved, as heart that freely bums 
With ardent love, into the flaming whole. 
Choiring at one with everlasting mind ! 



*In the parlance of the men at the front 'going West" is used as a 
euphemism for dying. 



48 



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